Fall Out
by Bananna
Summary: A phone call over Christmas forces the Strongholds to get to know the Peaces better...Chapter 6 up short but hopefully a bit of a cliffie...as always reviews are appreciated.
1. The Phone Call

Josie was in the kitchen mediating a 'discussion' between her mother and her mother-in-law on how to best baste a turkey when the phone rang. Tactfully excusing herself, she tried not to seem too desperate to reach the phone; mentally promising great and glorious rewards to whomever was calling.

"Josie Stronghold how may I help you?" she asked hoping that note of desperation in her voice was not obvious to the caller.

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

"Is this the Stronghold residence?" came a polite and professional feminine voice.

'Didn't I just say my name?" Josie thought but said politely "Yes, this is the Stronghold residence."

"Oh good." There was relief evident in her voice. "May I speak with Josie or Steven?" the women on the other end of the line asked.

"This is Josie." She said, her desperation to escape the turkey basting discussion was quickly turning to irritation.

"My name is Agent Angela Watkins. I work with the Public Incident department in the N.S.C. I've been trying to contact the parents or guardians of one…" she paused as though she were consulting paperwork, "Warren Peace. I was directed by the head of the S.A.I.D (Department of Super Alternate Identities) department to contact you or your husband." The words came out in a rush, a touch of nervousness in her voice.

Will insisted that the young man was his best friend. She hadn't seen much of him; apparently he didn't feel comfortable enough to come to their house. She counted that a failure on her part. The brief interactions that she had had with the teen had left her with a good impression and her mother hen instincts on hyper-drive.

"I don't understand." Josie said, truly puzzled.

"Ma'am, Mr. Peace was one of the victims in a multiple vehicle accident the morning of the 20th. That is all I am aloud to disclose over the phone. If you or your husband will meet me at St. Mary Catherine's Hospital, I can explain everything there."

Josie felt her knees weaken and she leaned heavily on the counter for support. There was only one multiple car pile up that she could be referencing to. She and Steve had been called to deal with a group of villains that thought the Christmas holidays would be the perfect time to usurp control of Maxville. One of the villains had decided to use a semi tanker full of gasoline as a bowling ball, trying to take Steve out of the game.

Steve had acted to save both their lives and had deflected the tanker away from them. Unfortunately, the tanker had been deflected into a busy intersection three blocks away. The resulting explosion had taken out 20 cars and damaged the lower stories of three buildings. By the time she and Steve had neutralized the villains there wasn't anything they could do to help at the secondary site other than rearrange the rubble.

The guilt that she had just managed to force down resurfaced tenfold. She knew citizens had been injured. She had wondered who the pyro that had kept the fire under control was, and was grateful that they had been there to help.

Now she knew.

"Ma'am?" she heard vaguely in her ear. The second time the voice sounded, she realized that she needed to respond.

"Is he alright?" Josie asked; the worry and guilt she felt could clearly be heard in her voice. The other two women in the kitchen, who up to this point had been politely pretending not to eavesdrop, were now listening with their full attention. "Wait…if he's been in the hospital all this time why are you just now calling us?" she asked.

"As I said before Ma'am, I'm not aloud to discuss the particulars over the phone…" Agent Watkins repeated.

"Right…meet you at the hospital." Josie interrupted, "STEVE! Get the car!" she yelled. "You said St. Mary Catherine's?"

"Yes Ma'am." Agent Watkins said.

"Where should we meet you?" Josie asked.

"I'll meet you at the main desk." Agent Watkins said slightly relieved.

Steve being the good husband that he was didn't question his wife's holler, but went directly to the key rack for the keys to the sedan and went out to warm it up.

But her shout had gotten the attention of the whole household. Grandma West and Grandma Stronghold were now looking at her with expectant expressions; turkey basting forgotten.

"What's going on mom?" Will asked uncertainly from the kitchen doorway. He was flanked closely by his friends that had come over to enjoy the pre-feast celebration.

"I'm not sure yet." Josie said as she headed toward the door, grabbing her coat on the way. "But Warren was caught in the whole mess earlier this week. They need your father and I at the hospital for something."

Her words brought varying degrees of confusion and concern to the faces of the teens crowded in the hall.

"Hospital?" Layla asked fearfully, "Is Warren in the hospital?"

"Is he OK?" Will asked reaching for his jacket as well, vague panic tinted his voice.

"I don't know, they wouldn't say anything over the phone." Josie said hand on the door nob. "Will you need to stay here. We'll be back soon, just…play a couple of games or help your Grandmas in the kitchen."

With that she quickly exited the house, leaving a group of very confused, very concerned teens in the hall.

"You think he was the one controlling the fires?" Magenta asked.

"I don't doubt it." Will answered.

"Do you think he went in to power exhaustion?" Layla asked.

"Power exhaustion?" Zack asked.

"Normally not a dire situation. For most supers it simply means that they've pushed their powers past their natural limits and they will be unable to use them until the body has recovered, which can take days to months, even years after ward depending on the extent of over use." Ethan said. "But the term is more sever for pyros. They usually suffer severe dehydration, hypertension caused by sustained elevated temperatures, the hypertension can lead to heart attack…" he continued to explain.

"Heart attack!" They all exclaimed at once. It was the only thing that they could get worked up about, because it was the only thing in Ethan's explanation that they understood.

Ethan involuntarily melted at the group's sudden intense interest in him.

"Let's not jump to conclusions." Magenta said, "We don't even know if he was capable of controlling the fire. All we've seen him do is throw fireballs at people."

"Magenta is right." Lalya joined her friend in rationality. "Warren could have just been near the intersection when the tanker crashed."

"But why would he be at the hospital? Would an explosion like that be able to hurt him? I through him through a wall and it didn't seem to phase him." Will asked. "And why would they call my parents?"

His questions were met with silence as the group tried to come up with some explanation to rationalize the dread they saw in Will's mom's eyes.


	2. The Hospital

Steve made good time. On the way Josie filled him in on what little she knew. He wasn't sure how he should feel. The whole situation was a little beyond his emotional grasp at this point. The teen his son considered his best friend, who just happened to be his arch enemy's son, had gotten caught in a horrific accident caused by him. Josie was almost certain that the teen had been the one to take control of the resulting fires and keep them away from the citizens that had become victims of the incident. Steve wasn't sure the teen had that much power. That and there was still a part of him that wanted to say that the kid was supposed to be just like his father; and his father would have let them all burn.

It was amazing how full the hospital parking lot was on Christmas day. "You would think everyone would be at home, with their families." Steve mumbled as he turned down yet another lane in search of an empty spot.

"Maybe their families are here." Josie reprimanded him gently. "There's one right there." She pointed out.

Steve parked the car and the two adults quickly made their way through the bone chilling cold to the main entrance of the only hospital in Maxville equipped to care for injured supers.

"Excuse me." Josie said politely but anxiously. "Can you please tell us where we can find Angela Watkins?"

The receptionist didn't even glance up from her book. "Is she a patient here?" The middle-aged woman didn't even bother to hide the boredom and annoyance in her voice.

"No." Josie said. "She works with law enforcement, she asked us to meet us here."

"If she's not a patient here I can't help you." The woman said.

"Is there any way you can page her?" Josie asked now officially irritated with the woman. Steve wisely stayed quiet and in the background.

"If she's not a patient at the hospital I can't help you." The receptionist repeated still not looking up from her book.

"Then tell me where your supervisor is I want to speak with him." Normally Josie wasn't this impatient, but she was worried about what had happened. She knew that what ever it was she and Steve were partially responsible for it. It was hard to swallow knowing that innocent strangers had been hurt. But knowing that someone that was important to her son had been hurt; that twisted her stomach into about 10 unidentifiable knots that were enjoying a torturous jig before trying to escape her body.

"Ma'am, if you don't calm down I will call security and have them escort you out." Again the receptionist spoke in a toneless canter without looking up form her book.

Josie's eyebrows rose to her hairline. "Calm down?" She asked. "Lady I am calm. If I was anything but calm you would know."

"Josie, honey." Steve finally decided it would be better if he was the focus of his wife's wrath than the poor, unsuspecting, indolent receptionist. "She did say that she would meet us at the front desk, maybe we should just wait for her over here." He tried to gently pull her away from the receptionist's desk.

"No." Josie said irked. "I want your supervisor's name." Josie demanded while trying to squirrel her way out of Steve's grip. The receptionist had given her a perfect outlet for her growing nervous tension.

"Josie." Steve plead. "Please, just come wait over here with me."

"I want her supervisor's name." Josie told him as he lead her to the farthest point from the main desk that still remained in the entrance.

"What's gotten into you?" Steve asked when they were safely away from the receptionist.

"I'm sorry." Josie apologized. "It's just…citizens were hurt in that incident, and now today we find out that one of them is someone we know, someone who's important to Will…" she rambled on. "I feel awful. And that receptionist…"

"Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold." Agent Watkins interrupted Josie.

Steve and Josie turned to the petit woman that approached them. "So good to meet you." She said, "I'm Angela Watkins." She flashed her I.D. "Please follow me, we have much to discuss."

Steve and Josie shared a look of uncertain concern, but followed her anyway. She led them to an elevator.

"You probably have a lot of questions." She said once the elevator doors were closed. "The foremost probably being why we called you."

"That wasn't the first question." Josie was quick to say. Steve looked as though he disagreed, but he was quick to not let her see that.

"Why is Warren here?" Josie asked before the Agent could say anything else.

Agent Watkins pursed her lips; "Before I am aloud to share that information with you I need to tell you why we called you and where we go from here."

Josie and Steve stared at her expectantly.

"The first thing I did when I was given the case was try to contact Mr. Peace's mother. When I couldn't contact her, I called the Assignments Bureau. It took them almost 24 hours to tell me that they couldn't tell me where she was; a blackout mission that is so far above my security clearance that if her son wasn't in the hospital my security clearance wouldn't be able to get that much out of them." She paused to catch a breath.

Josie and Steve's eyebrows were acquainting themselves with the rest of the hair on their heads.

"I was instructed to contact the Department of Super Alternate Identities. As you know all active supers with children are required to file a family care plan for unfortunate events such as this. After I finally got a hold of a somewhat competent clerk, I was told that Mrs. Peace was in the process of revising her care plan. Adding a new guardian to a care plan for someone with Mrs. Peace's clearance level requires notifying the third party, their consent, and about six months of various interviews and inspections." Agent Watkins rambled.

"Can you get to the point?" Josie interrupted the young agent.

"Sorry," Agent Watkins said, "I realize I have a tendency to ramble." She received steely glares. "The point is Mrs. Stronghold, Mrs. Peace notified the Department of her intent to add your family to her care plan."

That statement sent their eyebrows to consorting with the clouds.

"As I said," Agent Watkins continued, "It takes six months to add a new guardian to a care plan for a family like the Peaces. I've spent the past 4 days pulling every string in the universe to get you fast tracked onto approval. Your records as upstanding citizens and impeccable heroes helped. Of course you will have to complete a few interviews and endure a more intensive background check for your security clearance to be raised." She saw that Josie was about to interrupt her again.

"But if you are willing," She said stalling Josie's interruption, "You can sign these papers and the interviews and background checks will be nothing but formality, you will officially be Mr. Peace's temporary guardians and I will be permitted to inform you of his condition and include you in the investigation where it concerns him." She paused for another breath.

"If you don't he'll have to remain here at the hospital and you will be aloud to see him during visiting hours if you so choose."

Josie looked to Steve, concern and confusion mixing on her face; Steve was having a little trouble comprehending the news.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened with a ding.

"Give me the papers." Josie demanded before following the agent out of the lift.

"We aren't going to discuss this?" Steve asked following behind his wife.

Josie threw him a scathing look. Steve wisely shut up and added his signature next to hers on the papers.

"Now tell us how he is." Josie was clearly impatient.

"Current evidence points to Mr. Peace being in a car that was stopped at the light when the fuel tanker exploded. If he weren't a pyro, it is most certain that he would be dead." Agent Watkins said as they came to a desk. "Please page Dr. Applebee." She asked the nurse sitting behind the desk and showed her credentials.

"The other victims are lucky he was able to remain conscious and lucid enough to seize control of the fires created by the primary and secondary explosions. The extent of the fires and his condition ensured that he was unable to put the fires out by himself, but he was able to redirect the fires away form the victims, and made the work of the local fire departments easier." The Agent explained, not sparing their feelings of guilt over the situation.

"His condition?" Josie asked in a harsh whisper.

"The best explanation for the damage is that it wasn't just that he was at the intersection but that the fuel tanker landed _on_ his car Mrs. Stronghold." Agent Watkins said.

There was a sharp intake of breath from both Strongholds. Josie nearly collapsed; she put her hand out to steady herself against the wall. Steve brought his hand to his face, covering his mouth for a moment before anxiously running it through his hair.

"Frankly I'm amazed he walked away from it." Agent Watkins said as a man in a white coat approached them. "Dr. Applebee, a pleasure to see you again." She said as she shook his hand. "May I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold."

"A pleasure, though I wish we could meet under different circumstances." Dr. Applebee said as he shook the Stronghold's hands. "I'm Warren's attending physician."

"How is he?" Josie quickly asked. "Is he ok? Can we see him?" Her guilt and worry pushing her dangerously close to histaria.

"He's stable." Dr. Applebee said cautiously. "And baring any further complications, he should make a quick and full recovery."

Josie and Steve shared a look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve asked.

"It means that considering everything that happened, he's a very strong young man." Dr. Applebee again replied evasively.

"Why do you keep avoiding answering the question?" Josie was almost at the end of her patience. Her mother instincts had been on edge since Agent Watkins had mentioned her son's best friend over the phone. And she didn't know how much longer she would be able to keep her cool.

Dr. Applebee looked to Agent Watkins for permission. "They've signed the papers, they're officially temporary guardians until his mother can be contacted for further instructions." Agent Watkins confirmed.

"From the impact and the initial explosion alone he suffered a compound fracture to the left tibia and the left humerus, as well as a comminuted fracture to the left radial bone and three broken ribs. The ribs came dangerously close to puncturing a lung, and if he isn't careful how he moves for the next couple weeks they still might. They are also caused a condition called Flail chest, which complicated his breathing issues. He also suffered a grade II concussion, a great deal of soft tissue damage, several contusions and lacerations, and ruptured eardrums."

Both the Strongholds felt ill. Pyros weren't invulnerable, but they were darn close to it.

"You said he walked away form it." Steve said in disbelief.

"He did." Agent Watkins said. "He refused treatment until the fire departments had everything under control and then walked from the center of the scene to the last ambulance there. Amazing kid if you ask me."

"Yah." Steve replied numbly.

"You said those injuries were form the explosion alone. That implies that he has other injuries?" Josie said worriedly.

"Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold, do you know what happens to pyros when they reach power exhaustion?" Dr. Applebee asked.

"The same thing as everyone else?" Steve ventured a guess.

"No Mr. Stronghold." Dr. Applebee said, trying not to sound patronizing. "Most supers lose the ability to use their powers for a time. It's a bit more serious for pyros and other supers whose major life sustaining systems are dependent on their powers, and that's if there aren't any preexisting complications."

"Just get to the point." Josie had finally reached the end of her motherly patience. "Is Warren alright?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold," Dr. Applebee said after taking a minute to fully evaluate the couple standing before him. "How much do you know about pyros?"

Josie's lips thinned, and Steve was visibly confused.

"Apparently not much." Dr. Applebee said. "Cindy, please get them some pamphlets about pyros." The nurse behind the desk they were near quickly acknowledged the doctor's words and went to search out the requested pamphlets.

"Pyrokinetics have special glands that secrete a flammable substance, they have to elevate their internal body temperature to ignite the substance. They also have to elevate their internal body temperature to match any fire they want to control. The fires he was controlling were extremely hot, and he had to maintain that temperature for a very long time. Pyros are born with the ability to maintain temperatures within their particular flammable range, but only for short periods of time. Warren pushed passed both his current flammable range and the amount of time his body could maintain those temperatures."

Josie, Steve and Agent Watkins were looking at him, waiting for him to finish dropping the other shoe.

"Once the adrenalin wore off in the ambulance he went into cardiac arrest. The shock from the explosion was compounded by the dehydration from sustained high temperature which caused his kidneys and other organs to start failing. Added onto that smoke inhalation caused further complications in his ability to oxygenate his blood causing hypoxia."

Josie had gone pale at cardiac arrest and continued to lose color as he continued his laundry list. Steve looked a little green and like his stomach was desperate to acquaint itself with the nearest toilet.

"You said he's stable." Josie caught on to that.

"Organ failure." Steve whispered almost to himself.

"We're very lucky that pyros are resilient, and that he's a fighter." Dr. Applebee said, "As soon as we stabilized his sinus rhythm we put him on dialysis and a ventilator to reduce the strain on his system. It seems as though that as well as being a pyrokinetic, he also has some sort of accelerated healing factor. We were able to take him off the dialysis and the ventilator early yesterday evening, and he's been doing well on the 100% oxygen we've had him on since."

"He's going to be ok?" Josie asked, needing the reassurance.

"His body has already healed most of the damage caused by the power exhaustion." Dr. Applebee said again with cautious optimism, "His body is now starting to focus on the injuries caused by the explosions. And we've done everything we can for those here. I'd be willing to release him to you, if you think you can handle him."

"Of course." Steve said, "Can't have him here alone for the holiday." Josie gave him a grateful look and a squeeze around the middle.

"Cindy?" Dr. Applebee called to the nurse sitting at the desk in the center of the hallway. "Can you get Mr. Peace's discharge papers ready please?"

"Sure thing Dr. Applebee." Cindy said and handed him some other papers.

"Here are some pamphlets on pyros." Dr. Applebee said and handed the papers to the two. Josie eagerly reached out to take them, Steve looking over her shoulder.

Cindy returned quickly with a stack of papers for the Strongholds to sign.

"As I've said, I'm certain that he will make a full recovery, and a quick one if I'm right about that healing factor." Dr. Applebee said as the nurse indicated where the Strongholds were to sign. "Here's my card, please don't hesitate to call me if there are any problems. And I want him back in here next week for a check up, Cindy will make the appointment for you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few more rounds to do."

They shook hands and Agent Watkins stepped away with him and they had a hushed conversation before the Dr. left down the hall to check on his patients. Steve and Josie stepped closer to the desk.

"I've put Warren on the calendar for 1000 on the third, does that work for you?" Cindy asked politely.

"Do we just bring him back here?" Josie asked.

"No," Cindy responded, "You'll need to take him to this address here." She said as she leaned over the desk with a piece of paper. She circled the address of Dr. Applebee's private offices with yellow highlighter. "Here are the prescriptions for his pain killers and antibiotics." She handed over several half sheets of paper with writing Steve was certain that no one in this galaxy would be able to understand. "And if you'll please sign here, here and here," she went on to say placing an X near several blank lines on a stack of papers. "I'll go get Warren ready to go while you read them over."

"Why don't you go with her." Steve suggested to Josie as he took the stack of paperwork from the nurse. "I can sign these and head down to the pharmacy to get these filled."

"You sure?" Josie asked. Steve nodded absently as he began scanning the paperwork; scribbling his name where the Xs indicated.

Josie shook her head in fond annoyance and then turned away form her husband to follow the nurse down the hall to her newest charge's room. Each step brought new butterflies to her stomach. The list of injuries the doctor had spouted off rolled around her head. She was almost afraid of what would greet her when she got to the room.

"He's on some heavy pain killers, and healing takes a lot of energy, so don't be surprised if he sleeps most of the day." Cindy said as they walked. "Just check on him every hour or so and make sure he hasn't rolled onto his side or something like that. You'll also need to take his temperature frequently, if it drops more than 3 degrees in an hour, bring him back here immediately."

She stopped in front of a half closed door. "He looks pretty banged up, but he looks a lot better than he did a few days ago. Dr. Applebee wouldn't be letting him go home with you if he wasn't certain that it would be ok." Cindy reassured Josie before opening the door.


	3. Steve and Josie

Josie wasn't sure what she was expecting to see once she entered the room. She supposed she half expected to see the teen wrapped from head to toe in gauze, but she knew that was just her guilt and worry messing with her imagination. But her heart and chest clenched all the same.

Warren was curled up as much as he could be, which was really just a slight curve to his right as he dozed on his back. The only thing she had to judge his pallor by was a brief glimpse of him months ago, but based off of that memory; he was rather pale. His dark hair was messed and some strands framed his face and the contrast drew attention to the bruises and small but healing scrapes on his face. He was covered by a light blanket, but she could make out the bulk of an air cast secured around his left arm as it rested across his chest. She also noted the even bulkier air cast around his leg.

Nurse Cindy approached the bed and gently woke Warren from his doze. "Good morning." She said as dark brown eyes found her and tried to focus on her. "Tell me how you feel." Her voice was cheery but quiet.

Josie watched confusion contort his face as he struggled to comprehend what had been said. "Tell me how you feel." Cindy said again more deliberately, ensuring to correctly pronounce each word and pausing longer between each than normal speech dictated.

Warren blinked sluggishly again. Josie could see him trying to work the question out in his mind. He blinked again and refocused on the nurse. "Fine." He whispered.

Cindy smiled and shook her head a little. She would eventually find the person that was teaching the incorrect definition of the word to men across the globe and have them admitted for some very uncomfortable invasive testing.

"Mrs. Stronghold is here to take you home." Cindy said in her same hushed cheery and deliberate tone as she used the controller to raise the head of the bed so that its occupant was in a more seated position.

"Home?" was the one thing his injury and drug induced confusion was able to focus on. The broken whisper almost broke Josie's heart.

"Let's see if we can't get you sitting in the chair for a few minutes." Cindy said, glossing over the vulnerability of her patient.

Josie watched as the nurse deftly and gently helped Warren sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. A grimace of pain flitted across his face as he momentarily put his weight on his right leg.

"We'll see how he handles sitting without the oxygen." Josie wasn't sure if the nurse was explaining everything for her benefit or for Warren's. But who ever it was for, she was grateful for the other woman's chatter.

"I'm not sure if its because of the meds we have him on, or if he didn't have that great of a grasp on it in the first place, but he seems to be having trouble with English right now." Cindy addressed Josie after she had helped her patient into a soft and loose pair of scrubs.

"Trouble with English?" Josie asked, the whole day was one thing after another; it would be a miracle if she wasn't confused by anything else before they got back home.

"Yes," Cindy said as she set up the wheel chair. "It takes a lot of energy and brain power to speak in a language that isn't your own. I know, I learned Spanish in college and did a semester abroad; it was exhausting trying to understand what every one was saying all day long. He's been responding somewhat like I was after my first three days in Spain. That and it's been long enough, and his scans are clean, that his apparent confusion and the time it takes him to respond to anything can't be due to a concussion."

Josie watched as the nurse did some poking and prodding which garnered a tempered glare from the hurt teen, but a smile from her. "Well," she said, "Looks like he's oxygenating well and shouldn't have a problem being off the O2. But as I'm sure Dr. Applebee mentioned; you still need to make sure that he takes it easy and doesn't sleep on his side, his ribs are still healing and could cause some trouble for his breathing. If you see that he's having trouble breathing make sure to take him to the emergency room and have them x-ray his chest. Allrighty then. I'm going to go grab a wheel chair. I'll be right back."

The nurse's whirlwind departure left the room in an uncomfortable silence, at least for Josie. She wasn't sure if any comfort from her would be welcomed by the teen. She and Steve had put his father in jail; never mind the fact that Will insisted that the teen currently struggling to stay awake was his best friend. She'd only seen him once before, once. And that was in passing. The only things she knew about this kid was second hand information. She knew that his father was a particularly misguided individual, if not slightly off his rocker. She knew nothing about his mother, only that she was very effective at what she did; hell, she didn't even know the woman's name. And that her son had gone to superficially fearing him as his archenemy to caring deeply about him as a best friend in less than two weeks. Talk about mood swings…

What was she doing?

Her momentary internal lapse into terror-trimmed confusion was thankfully interrupted as the nurse came back in pushing a wheelchair in front of her.

"All righty then." Nurse Cindy said, placing the wheelchair next to the sitting teen. "Let's get you ready to go. Now Mrs. Stronghold, if you could come over here, I'll show you how to help him until we can get these casts off."

There was a flash of recognition in hazy eyes preceded a small but noticeable flinch as Josie followed nurse Cindy's instructions. Josie wasn't sure if it was from pain or from recognition of who she was. She was surprised by how much the second possibility hurt. But they both carried on as though he had not reacted to her presence at all, and he was swiftly situated in the wheelchair with nurse Cindy gently tucking a blanket around him.

"Your husband should have his meds by now. We'll head down to the front entrance to wait for your car." Cindy said and started pushing the teen laden wheelchair out of the room and toward the elevator. Cindy continued to chatter the entire trip to the exit; giving Josie instructions on how to care for the injured teen.

"Be sure to check his temperature every two hours with the thermometer that I handed you earlier. He shouldn't be walking around for another week or so, Dr. Applebee doesn't want him on crutches until his ribs and arm heal completely. He hasn't really been eating much, but you need to make sure that he eats at least a little with his pain meds. There should be an antiemetic in case of any nausea. Don't be too worried if he sleeps most of the time, healing takes a lot out of a person. Once a day, when you have him awake, make sure he uses the breather for 2 or three minutes; that will help ensure he doesn't come down with pneumonia and that his lungs don't get week. Oh here we are…"

Josie was glad the nurse knew where she was going. Between concentrating on the last minute care instructions and berating herself for thinking the sight the dozing teen presented was absolutely adorable; she never would have been able to get them to the exit that had the carport.

Steve had indeed been victorious at the pharmacy. The pharmacist had been patient in explaining what each little bottle of pills was and how often each one needed to be given and what foods and drink to give with each. He tried very hard to remember it all. But just as he was about to turn away from the window, he turned back to her and asked if she could write that all down for him. The woman blinked at him and raised an eyebrow before shaking her head and telling him that all then information and instructions were printed on the stack of papers she had handed him with the little bag that contained the little bottles of pills.

Steve sheepishly thanked her and went to go find the car. As he wandered the cold parking lot searching for where they had parked the car, he wondered if it would have been a better idea if he had gone with the nurse to get the injured teen and Josie to get the meds and the car. She at least would have been able to remember where they had parked. But then he wasn't so sure that was a good idea either. Actually, he wasn't so sure this whole situation was a good idea.

Barry had been a pain to put up with in school, and had been one tough son of a gun to bring down after he'd gone off his rocker and started executing his own twisted brand of 'justice'. Steve was lucky to have made it out of that final conflict burn free.

When Principle Powers phoned to tell them of the incident in the cafeteria earlier that year; it had been all he could do to not show his glee. He had been ecstatic that one, turned out his son had super strength just like him (really what male ego wouldn't be stoked). And two, his son had put his archenemy's son in his place; showed him who was boss. He hadn't cared about the trashed cafeteria, he'd cared that his son had won. When Will told him the details of the save the citizen tournament, again, Steve had glossed right over how his archenemy's son had nearly been suffocated, he had only cared that his son had saved the day. And he had walked away from the Homecoming fiasco wondering if he should check to see if Barry was still in the UltraMax and not wandering around Sky High as a victim of Sue Tenny's pacifier.

These thoughts churned in his head as he briskly walked down another isle searching for the car. No, it would have been a very bad idea for him to go with the nurse.

He finally found the car and wondered who would be waiting for who by the time he pulled the care to the entrance of the hospital. As he drove to the entrance he conveniently forgot that the teen was in the hospital because of his actions, and instead wondered if this was a good idea. He had no idea what this kid was like on a good day, let alone drugged to the gills. What was wrong with him staying in the hospital until his mother came back from her mission? And why, why them of all people, would the N.S.C. grant them temporary custody of his archenemy's son. What would possess the woman to put them on her family care plan to begin with?

He pulled into the carport that sheltered the door to the hospital and all negative thoughts fled his mind as his wife walked out the door followed by a nurse pushing a laden wheel chair. The image of a new born kitten wrapped in a warm blanket came to mind.

He got out as the trio approached the car. There was some discussion about whether or not it would be better to put him in the back seat or the front seat. In the end the question was settled by Warren himself getting fed up with the waffling adults and the cold and sending them all into a new panic by levering himself out of the wheel chair and somehow maneuvering himself into the back seat of the car without his casted foot ever touching the ground. This maneuver ate up any and all energy he had and after slamming the door closed on the three horror struck adults promptly fell into a very deep sleep.

"Well," Steve said, "guess that answers that question." He got an angry glare from both women for that remark. He quickly and meekly returned to the driver's seat.

Nurse Cindy shook her head. "Check him over when you get him home and if any issues come up bring him directly to the emergency room."

"Will do." Josie said, eying the now sleeping teen with concern. "Than you." With that she got in the passenger's seat. And Steve carefully drove them home.


	4. Homecoming

The drive home was silent; the two adults reluctant to say anything for fear of waking the sleeping teen in the back seat. Thus each were lost in their own thoughts. But as their house came into view, their thoughts began to run along the same lines.

How were they supposed to get the teen out of the car and into the house without waking him, or more importantly, without hurting him?

Steve had had to remind himself when he caught a glimpse of the teen every time he checked his rear view mirror that Barry Battle was not sitting in his back seat. He had to remind himself again as he purposefully glanced back as the question of how to get him out of the car arose in his mind.

Would it be better to wake him? Or would it be better to try to maneuver him out of the car without waking him? If it would be better to let him sleep…how in the world were they going to do that? Steve didn't know how tall the teen was. He couldn't recall ever actually seeing the kid before. And bundled up in a blanket in a wheel chair didn't really help one get a good feeling for the physical size of someone. Barry hadn't exactly been a small man, and glancing back and noting how much of the back seat that kid took up; Steve knew that it was going to be impossible to get the teen out of the car without doing some form of damage to either him or the car.

Josie had a better idea of how tall Warren was. And from helping nurse Cindy get him into the wheel chair, had a better idea of how much he weighed. Once that thought popped up it set off a whole new track of mothering instincts. Surely someone his size should weigh more. Or was it just that she was so used to her husband and own son's weight. Super strength came with super dense muscles, and therefore more weight. While one part of her brain tried to work that out, another part was working on the problem of how to get him out of the car. She was a woman, multitasking and carrying on more than one thought process at a time was part of her genetic code. As Steve put the car in park in their drive way she came to the conclusion: they weren't getting him out of the car without doing damage to him, or the car.

They both looked over their shoulders to look at the sleeping teen. After about a minute of silent contemplation, Josie looked to Steve and Steve looked to Josie. They both knew instantly that they had been thinking the same thing.

Josie got out of the car and gently closed her door and then opened the rear passenger door. She lightly put her hand on Warren's shoulder and gently shook as she quietly called his name. When he didn't so much as twitch she glanced at Steve. Steve shrugged before getting out of the car and walking around to where she was.

"You go around to the other side and help angle him out." Steve said. "I'll get him from here."

Both adults weren't sure if they should be worried at the lack of response as they slowly and gently pulled the teen from the back seat. Once Steve had him awkwardly cradled in his arms, Josie asked, "He's ok right? You think he's ok?" Seriously, how could carrying a six-foot something, broad shouldered young man with casts and smothered in blankets not be awkward?

"I'm sure he's fine." Steve grunted as he walked to the door. "I'm sure he's just tired from all the moving around that he's done today. We'll check him over once we get in the house."

By this time there was a crowd of spectators in the front hallway. The grandparents had done their best to corral the younger ones away from the door, but they could see the worry clearly on everyone's face and so didn't even try to shoo them off to another part of the house. They had all watched the news coverage of the latest city take over ploy. They had all seen the damage caused by the fuel tanker exploding. Everyone knew that the teen the adult Strongholds had gone to retrieve was a Pyro. And everyone in the house was well aware that Pyro's while not indestructible were dang near.

The mild but subdued panicked worry that had seeped into the consciousness of the five teens in the house spiked as soon as they saw Mr. Stronghold carrying a large lump of blanket. Every single one of them knew that Warren would have to be on death's door to allow anyone to carry him in such a manner, let alone Steven Stronghold.

They watched from the hall as Josie quickly opened the front door and got as much out of the way as the front entry would allow. Steve quickly angled himself and his burden through the door, which Josie swiftly shut behind him. Steve didn't bother to pause on his way to and up the stairs. Josie spared the gathered group of teens and family members a glance that promised an explanation as soon as they came back down.

Grandma West and Grandma Stronghold quickly put their arms around as many of the teens as they could and guided them into the dining room. "Come on now. Lets move into the dining room. You all can snitch as much as you want." Grandma Stronghold tried to distract them.

"Eat?" Zack asked. "You want us to eat?" Will and Layla looked a little too shell-shocked to do anything but impersonate zombies.

"I'm too nervous to eat right now." Magenta said.

"He has to be ok." Ethan said firmly. His announcement was met with the questioning gazes of his shaken friends. "Logic would state that the doctors wouldn't have released him if he wasn't ok."

Will blinked at his friend. "I suppose you're right." He finally said after a moment of contemplative silence. "But it's just…and he's…and…" he was unable to complete a full sentence.

"Yah I know dude." Zack said.

"Ethan is right." Magenta said, her arms wrapped around her middle.

Homecoming had thrown the six of them into the hero world earlier than they had expected. And since everything had turned out all right none of them (except maybe Warren) had give the real dangers they had faced a second thought. Will and Layla had completely brushed off his little swan dive through the gym windows and off the edge of the school. And since it turned out that he could fly, none of them had been hurt in the fiasco. This was the first time that they were forced to contemplate the consequences of their parents did; of what they were training to do. This was the first time they had to face up to the idea that any of them could be hurt.

And if Warren could be so badly hurt, what chance did the rest of them have save Will?

So with sobering thoughts of their own vulnerabilities and worry for their friend they nervously began devouring the appetizers that Will's grandmothers had thrown together and waited for Steve and Josie to come back down and tell them what had happened.

Josie trailed close behind Steve as he moved up the stairs. Both guest rooms were occupied, so at the top of the stairs Josie scooted around Steve and made her way to Will's bedroom door. She opened it and held it just as she had done with the front door, then moved to turn down the blanket on Will's bed. She had made Will promise that while the family was visiting he would keep his room clean, weights picked up and bed made. If he did that she would give him a pass on his X-box the next time he did something worthy of taking away his privileges.

Steve gently transferred the teen in his arms to the bed and stepped back to watch Josie arrange the blankets around him. Now that he actually took the time to look at the sleeping teen, he realized that though he bore resemblance to his father, he wasn't a carbon copy. He was also so very different from his own son; taller and slimmer, long dark hair where Will had short sandy brown.

Josie checked his pulse, which to her relief was strong and steady. She dug the thermometer the nurse gave her out of her pocket and pressed the button to turn it on. As easily as only a mother could she slipped the probe into his ear and waited until it beeped.

"What did the doctor tell his temperature was supposed to be?" Steve asked quietly.

"The nurse said his normal resting temperature should be within one degree of 307.2°F, but that it might be a little low until he's completely healed." Josie explained just as the thermometer beeped.

"How low is too low?" Steve asked.

"She didn't say." Josie said reading the display on the thermometer, 305.8°F. "She said if it drops more than three degrees in an hour, to take him to the emergency room."

"So he's ok for now?" Steve asked unable to read his wife's face.

"For now." Josie said. She smoothed some loose strands of hair off his forehead then tucked the blankets around his shoulders. "Let's let him sleep. We need to let Will and the others know he'll be ok before they go into hysterics.

Steve nodded in agreement and followed his wife out of the room. He would spend the next few weeks being completely amazed by her capacity for compassion and ability to care so much for someone she barely knew.


	5. Dinner

Steve and Josie found Will and the rest of the gang mindlessly munching on appetizers in the dining room. They paused at the door to take a deep breath, preparing themselves for the inevitable worry induced panicked questions that they knew would be asked as soon as the teens noticed them.

Though their anxiety had not lessened; the shock of seeing their friend in such a way subdued their excitability as they sat waiting for Will's parents to return. That was why they did not immediately pounce on the two adults when they entered the dining room.

"Everyone else is in the living room." Layla said.

"Grandmas finished cooking everything." Will added before numbly popping a pickle into his mouth.

"He'll be ok right?" Magenta asked after a moment of subdued silence. She, like the others, needed their earlier conclusions to be confirmed.

"Yes." Steve said, taking a moment to look each teen in the eye. "He'll be ok."

This statement sent a wave of relief through everyone, adults included. There was silence as they continued to munch and let the tension ease from their hearts.

"What happened?" Zack finally asked. "I mean, Will threw him through a wall and it didn't even phase him; pissed him off plenty, but didn't phase him."

The other teens blinked at his question as though this train of thought had never occurred to them.

Steve and Josie shared a guilt laced glance and a deep breath before answering the question put forth by the harrowed teen.

"We were told," Steve finally answered, "that he was in the car that the tanker I tossed landed on."

"Apparently the force of the landing and the ensuing explosion was enough to break a few of his bones." Josie continued, "but they are healing now. He needs rest and warmth, and he'll be better before you know it."

The teens around the table were again silent as they processed the new information.

"That's not all." Magenta said after scrutinizing the two adults in front of them. "Is it?" She asked.

Will's parents exchanged another glance as if deciding how much to tell them. "They said that he was able to keep the fires under control until everyone was rescued and the fire department was able to manage them."

"He did go into power exhaustion, didn't he?" Ethan asked. Of all of them sitting at the table he was probably the only one that really understood how dangerous power exhaustion was for a pyro, because he was the only one that had researched everyone else's powers.

"He's fine now." Josie tried to sidestep the question. "He's got a follow up appointment with his doctor next week. Now, why don't we get started on this feast and celebrate the fact that everything will be all right?"

The teens sensed that there was a bit more to the story, but they were mostly appeased with the knowledge that their friend was on his way to being well again, and safely tucked away in a warm bed in the very house that the were currently in. So they didn't push the matter any further. Instead they reluctantly got up to help put the appetizers back in the kitchen and set the table.

"Wait." Will suddenly said as he picked up the platter of pickles that he had been polishing off. "Why did they call you? And why now? It's been, like, five days since the incident." The other teens froze at his question, turning their inquisitive eyes toward the adults once again.

"According to the Super Bureau, we're the only family on Mrs. Peace's emergency list that is cleared to take care of him in this situation." Josie explained. However this didn't really clear anything up for the five teens holding various plates of hors d'oeuvres.

"Sooo, what does that mean?" Will asked.

"For the time being," Steve spoke, "Warren is our responsibility."

A slow smile spread across Will's face. "So, right now, legally, he's like my brother from different parents?"

"I suppose you could look at it like that." Josie said half amused at her son.

"Where's his mom?" Layla asked still a bit worried.

"Would you look at the time." Steve clumsily tried to pull everyone's attention away from that charged discussion. "I think it's turkey time, don't you?" Then he walked out of the dining room toward the living room to gather the rest of the guests for dinner.

"Let's just have a nice dinner." Josie said. The teens shared a frustrated look and then quietly carried the plates of food back into the kitchen.

Upstairs

As Warren's senses slowly became aware of the world around him, his various hurts began chiming in. His side ached, his wrist ached, his leg ached…his nose itched. But even though he could tell that his pain meds were wearing off he was blessedly warm, and marginally comfortable. The distinct antiseptic smell of the hospital had been replaced by a feint gym sock odor, which would go unnoticed by someone with a lesser sense of smell.

His room at his home did not smell of gym sock.

He finally opened his eyes to be greeted with bland ceiling white, and a fuzzy memory of the Strongholds. But the pain meds, though wearing off, were still doing a number on his cognitive reasoning skills. So at the moment, the fuzzy memory of the Strongholds was swiftly attributed to a medically induced nightmare.

Confronted with a strange room, a strange smell, aching limbs and a rather large blank spot in his memory; he did the only thing someone under the influence of diminishing oxycodone could do…he did not have a panic attack. The result of his not panic attack was enough adrenalin to unbury himself from the blankets and gingerly maneuver himself into a mostly standing position heavily leaning on the conveniently placed nightstand. He then proceeded to carefully stumble his way to the closed door and out into the hall.

Once in the hall he paused. The smell of roasted turkey was strong and there was a subdued din of conversation coming from his left. Needing to know where he was and what was going on, he leaned heavily on the wall for support and made his way toward the now visible stairs. By the time he made it to the stairs his leg and ribs were beginning to protest his venture quite strenuously. But his waning pain med hazed fear was stronger. He was rational enough to know that he was never going to make it down the stairs with his bum leg. So he sat down and, like a three year old not confident to walk down the stairs himself, carefully scooted down each stair.

By the time he made it to the bottom, his ribs were screaming at him, and the adrenalin of finding himself in a completely alien location that smelled odd was almost gone. But he was close enough to know that the din he had heard earlier could now be clearly identified as a large group of people. Six more feet and a doorjamb and he would know where he was.

Paranoia tugged at his mind as he levered himself off of the bottom step to lean heavily against the last bit of wall. What was he going to do if these people were the wrong sort of people? He had no phone, he had no idea where his keys were, no shoes, he wasn't even wearing his own clothes. He could see a door and the window next to it said that it led to the outside. But he wasn't sure he would be able to make it that far if the group of people that he was painfully approaching turned out to be the wrong sort of family friends.

He finally reached the opening. Steeling himself, he peaked around the trim. There were at least 20 people sitting around a large table overflowing with food, talking to one another in a subdued tone. He was unable to make out any of the conversation; he couldn't even give you the language they were talking in. His breath came faster as he looked, not recognizing any of the people sitting closest to the door. As he continued to look his eyes fell on someone he did recognize, just as she looked up.

"Warren!" Josie shouted in surprise, almost dropping the bowl of mashed potatoes she was about to pass to her father in law.

Her shout silenced all conversation at the table and drew everyone's attention. She quickly put the bowl of potatoes down on the table not bothering to look where, and rushed to the doorway.

"What are you doing out of bed? How did you get down here?" She bombarded the dark hared teen as she rushed to him; more worrying out loud than actually seeking an answer. He looked like he was about to fall over. Both Steve and Will were halfway out of their seats by the time she made it to the startled looking young man.

"Are you all right? Do you hurt anywhere?" She asked as she gently manhandled him into a recently vacated chair. Once seated, she put her hand to his forehead out of habit to check his temperature, her motherly instincts not letting her remember that it would do no good.

"Are you hungry? Do you want something to drink? Were we too loud?" She continued to interrogate as the rest of the occupants looked on in amusement and worry.

Warren was nearly frantic, his eyes darting around the room and only able to catch snatches of what Mrs. Stronghold was asking. His head was starting to hurt, adding to the now throbbing pain in his chest, arm and leg. He was also starting to get cold. He did not want to deal with this. Why hadn't they taken him home like they said they would?

"Sweet heart?" Josie finally calmed down enough to notice the tension in the teen sitting in front of her. "Warren? Sweet heart, look at me." She requested gently and slowly, bending down do be at eye level with the sitting teen.

He turned to her and she could see the near panic in his eyes. "Do you understand me?" she finally asked.

He blinked slowly at her, trying to block out the shuffling of everyone being herded out of the dining room by two elderly, yet stern looking women. It took some effort, but now that he was concentrating on just her, he did understand. He gave a short nod to her to let her know.

"Do you hurt?" Josie asked ignoring her husband as he quietly approached.

It took a moment, and a few distressed glances around the now empty room. When he answered, his voice was horse with unused and pain, "I want to go home."

Suddenly she was back in the hospital room and her heart nearly broke again. "You can't go home yet sweet heart." Josie said gently. "You need to stay with us for a little while."

Warren's brow furrowed, his nose flared and his mouth twitched not sure if it wanted to frown or scowl. "Mom's on blackout?" he asked. English, his brain finally caught on; that was the language he needed to speak.

Josie looked quickly to Steve. Blackout missions were something they had learned about in school, but had no experience with. "I don't know." She said as she turned her attention back to the teen in front of her. "They only told us that they couldn't get a hold of her. You can't go home until she get's back."

Warren looked between the two adults as he worked to process what Mrs. Stronghold had told him. He was unaware of how utterly lost he looked when he finally understood that he was not going home, and that he was stuck with the Strongholds of all people for an undetermined length of time. Had he been completely healthy, he would be pissed. But right now, his whole body was hurting and he just wanted to curl up in something warm.

"We can take you tomorrow to get some clothes and stuff." Steve said, not comfortable at all with the despondent look on the teen's face. He wondered if they had brought home a stray kitten when said teen scrubbed at his eyes and swiped his tousled hair out of the way, his energy visibly diminishing.

"Let's get you some more pain meds." Josie said, resisting the urge to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear. She sent a pointed look toward her husband, who quickly left to the kitchen to retrieve said meds.

While he was gone Josie noticed the slight tremor that began to run through Warren. She would have to check his temperature soon. "Do you want to go back up stairs or do you want to stay down here and lay down on the couch?" She asked finally catching his eyes.

Warren rubbed at his eyes again. The adrenalin he had used to get down the stairs and the jolt and being confronted with the Stronghold family apparently having Christmas dinner was all but gone. Mr. Stronghold returned with an orange bottle before he could answer the question asked.

"Here" He said while holding out a white pill and a glass of water. "You take this and then I'll help you to the couch."

Warren slowly reached out to take the pill from Steve's hand but paused halfway there. Instead he reached for the orange bottle. Steve felt mildly affronted when Warren grabbed the pill bottle instead of the proffered pill. Josie gave him a sharp look before he could make any sort of noise in protest.

Warren tried to concentrate on the label. All he could really make out was his name. His brain was moving toward refusing to process any written language. He blinked a few times and decided to give up and take the pill that Mr. Stronghold was holding. So he put the pill bottle back on the edge of the table he was sitting next to and took the pill from the waiting hand. He clumsily reached for the glass of water in the other hand after shoving said pill into his mouth. He may not have gotten all the water into his mouth, but at this point, he really didn't care.

Steve carefully helped the teen to stand and then practically carried him to the couch in the living room. He was asleep before they got there. Will was anxiously waiting with a heavy blanket and a soft pillow for his head and leg.

After making Warren as comfortable as they could, Steve dragged his son back to the dining room to finish dinner. Telling him that he could sit with his friend later, when he was more likely to be awake. Josie slipped in to take his temperature and her quick return to the dinner table signaled that his temperature was just fine.

Steve spent the rest of dinner wondering why his son's friend reminded him of a lost kitten, Barry never reminded him of a kitten.


	6. What?

Warren's appearance had done wonders to lift the general mood of the gathered family and friends at the Stronghold home. There was still an air of concern, but knowing that he was well enough for an escape attempt and was now safely tucked beneath a blanked sleeping through the din of their conversation; allowed all present to enjoy the feast set before them. Even the ones that had no idea who he was.

Dinner wound down with everyone satisfactorily stuffed. Will and friends excused themselves to a quiet game of go fish while they watched over their friend. Grandfathers excused themselves to an after Christmas feast nap in their rooms. After saying goodbye to the rest of their guests, Steve chose to take a nap in the dining room, head on table, while Grandmothers and Josie cleared off the left overs and began the mundane process of cleaning up.

Josie was now mediating a 'discussion' about the best way to use the left over turkey; sandwiches or soup? The very invigorating conversation was interrupted by a knock on the front door.

Curious, Josie gladly left the discussion in the kitchen to go and answer it. She poked her head into the living room to check on the kids. Seeing Warren still asleep on the couch, buried beneath the blanket that Will had brought down and the rest of the teens gathered in a loose circle on the floor with cards; she smiled and went to the door.

"Principle Powers?" To say that Josie was surprised was an understatement. "What can we do for you?"

Patricia Powers' smile was a bit strained but freely given. "I apologies for the intrusion. I've been looking for Warren. He was supposed to help inventory the Mad Science Lab but he didn't show and I've been unable to reach him. I know that he and Will are friends and I was wondering if he knew where he was."

To Josie the explanation sounded hollow and the tone a colored with a bit more panic and worry than a principle should have for a delinquent student. "He's here." She said as she gestured for Principle Powers to enter. "He was caught up in the accident a few days ago."

Patricia's head snapped up and her eyes urgently sought Josie's, searching for the truth in her words. "Is he alright?"

Josie was beginning to hate that word. "Yes." She said, "he'll be fine." She watched, her motherly suspicions rising as Principle Powers sighed in relief. "He wasn't supposed to help in the Mad Science Lab, was he?" Josie asked.

By this point, their conversation had gained a few discrete listeners. All exceptionally curious as to why the principle was so interested in the welfare of a single student.

"No." Patricia admitted. "No he wasn't." she sighed. "I…he's…" she struggled to explain.

Josie already having shut the door, folded her arms and waited for an explanation having recognized the same subdued motherly instincts in the other woman as she had discovered in herself.

"Barry is my half brother." She finally blurted out, her eyes pleadingly searching Josie's face for understanding.

Josie blinked. And blinked again. And blinked a few more times trying to process what she had just heard. "Why…why don't you just come into the dining room and we can talk." She managed to stutter out. She led the slightly dejected school official passed the stunned pile of eavesdropping teens into the dining room to sit next to her shocked husband.


	7. That Side of the Family

"If he's here, then I assume that you are now his guardians while his mother is away?" Patricia asked as they walked down the hall. Josie nodded in affirmation.

"In that case, there's a lot that we need to discuss. But first can I see him?"

Josie stopped and looked at her. As confusing as the situation had gotten, she recognized genuine concern in the other woman's eyes. "He's right in here." She relented, gesturing to the living room.

They were greeted with varying degrees of surprise. Principle Powers smiled and hastily greeted each of her students before she focused all her attention on the young man sleeping on the couch. Josie motioned for the rest of the teens to vacate the room as their Principle knelt beside the occupied piece of furniture. Even though they didn't completely leave, they might as well have been in a different universe.

Patricia smoothed back his dark hair taking in the fading bruises on his face, before gently nudging his shoulder. "Warren?" She said quietly. She repeated this action twice before she got much of a response.

Warren was warmer that he had been, but he still hurt and he definitely didn't fit on this couch. That thought brought him up short. Who's couch was he on, and what was Aunt Pat doing here?

"Aunt Pat?" Warren asked groggily as he blinked open his eyes to confirm what he thought he was hearing.

"Yup." Patricia answered quietly.

"Wha…?" Was his most intelligent reply.

"You weren't answering your phone. It took me a while to track you down. How do you feel?" She asked firmly as she gently kept him from sitting up.

Warren blinked a few times before gingerly rubbing his face with his less injured hand. "This just got more complicated." He finally said.

Patricia sheepishly grimaced, but nodded in the affirmative. "Give me the rundown. And fine is not an answer."

Warren sagged back on the couch and rolled his eyes. "Couple of broken bones, heck of a head ache. Had some trouble with English for a bit. And I'm still a little cold." He listed off.

Patricia raised an eyebrow. "Couple of broken bones?"

Warren shrugged as well as one could while lying down on a too small couch with a broken arm and three broken ribs. "It's not like this is the first time I've had a broken bone…or two."

"Pain?" Patricia asked as she shook her head at his nonchalance.

"They hurt, but I'm pretty sure its more them healing than them being broken." Warren said flatly.

Patricia stared him down for a full minute, all the while evaluating his answers vs. his appearance. "You go back to sleep. I'll talk things over with the Strongholds, but you're going to have to stay here until you Mom gets back. I'll stop by your house tomorrow and grab your go bag and bring it here."

"Why them?" Warren was so far off kilter that he didn't realize how petulant he sounded, and thus couldn't stop himself from asking the question.

"I'm sure your mother had her reasons. She always does." Patricia said. "I'm sure this will be trying for you, but please try not to cause any trouble."

"I don't cause trouble." Warren mumbled in reply as he started to drift off.

"Right." Patricia huffed. "It just finds you."

Warren cracked an eye at her incredulous tone, and gingerly lifting his air casted arm and wiggling the toes on his air casted foot. "Case in point." Was all he said before closing his eye and ignoring her.

Patricia Powers smiled ruefully at her nephew and shook her head with a heavy sigh. By the time she tugged the blanket back up to his chin he was sleeping again; deeply enough that he wouldn't know to protest the quick kiss she laid on his forehead before getting up to follow a waiting Josie to her dining room.

Josie motioned to an empty chair as she took a seat next to Steve. She opened her mouth to dismiss the teens that had followed them when Will cut her off.

"We're not going anywhere." Will said. "He's our friend."

The three adults looked at the five teens and saw matching looks of determination on their faces.

Patricia sighed. "I can't tell you how glad I am that you have all become a part of Warren's life. I've always thought he needed some friends his own age to keep him grounded." She said, her tone a bit wistful. When she spoke again her tone was her no nonsense, I mean business, principle tone. "But this conversation is not for you to hear. I must ask that you never again speak of what you've already seen and heard."

"But…" Will began to argue.

"Remain a loyal friend to him and you will eventually have the answers to all the questions you no doubt have right now and then some." Patricia interrupted Will before he could even articulate half a sentence in protest.

There was a brief staring match between teens and principle.

"Fine." Will finally acquiesced.

"We won't tell anyone." Magenta said giving Zack a pointed look that promised doom and pain if he did not agree.

"Promise." Zack quickly agreed, though it sounded more like a yelp.

"Thank you for trusting us with that information." Ethan said diplomatically.

"We'll just be in the living room with Warren." Layla said as she ushered them from the room.

"Make sure to close the sliding doors." Josie said as the teens disappeared through the doorway.

The adults waited a few moments in silence, listening for the tell tale scape of the sliding doors closing the living room off from the rest of the house. Josie got up to peer down the hall to make sure the doors were shut. Satisfied that the teens had obeyed she returned to her seat at the table.

"You said Barry was your brother?" Steve asked in utter disbelief, unable to contain himself any longer.

"Half brother." Patricia corrected. "We share the same father."

"Younger or older?" Steve asked curiously.

"Eight years younger." Patricia answered. "My father left when I was a little girl. I don't remember him all that well. I didn't know that Barry was my brother until shortly before you arrested him."

"How did you find out about him?" Josie asked.

"From my older brother. I didn't know about him either; he found me, we share the same mother. Apparently he knew about the both of us all along. I don't know why he chose then to approach me, but he gave me the information I needed to contact Barry and left the decision to meet him up to me. I had finally decided to call him the day you arrested him." Patricia explained awkwardly.

"I had the phone in my hand when the news started broadcasting that you had taken him to the UltraMax."

She had to pause to choose her words.

"The first time I saw my little brother was on a TV as he was being dragged bound by you past the outer gates of the prison. Then the news channels started broadcasting the fires…the body count…"

She had to stop again. Josie sympathetically poured a glass of water and handed it to her. Her listeners waited patiently for her to continue.

"I had just been appointed Assistant Principle at Sky High. I knew if I wanted to keep my job…I could never let anyone find out that I was in any way connected to him." The she huffed at the irony, "So I burned the papers that my older brother had given me."

Josie drew her eyebrows together in thought. "That looked a little more familiar than burying all connections to Barry would suggest." She said in reference to the little question and answer session that had passed in the living room.

"Two years after I burned the information that my older brother gave me; I went to visit him and his wife, an attempt to get to know him better and a vacation before I started as the Principle at the school." Patricia said. "He and his mother, Laura, were there visiting as well."

"Phil and I can't have children of our own." Patricia continued, "I suppose teaching, being a principle filled a void in a way. But I didn't realize that void existed until I met my nephew."

She smiled wistfully, "I don't think I've ever had as much fun on a vacation as I had that year."

This drew surprised looks from the Strongholds at the seeming change of mood.

Patricia's smile broadened as if in response to some joke. "Just you wait," she warned, a twinkle in her eye, "Soon enough you'll see that young man in there has one wicked sense of humor. And the thing that gets you every time," she explained, "You never see it coming. Though I'm sure his mother does."

She shook her head to clear the fond memories of that first meeting with her estranged sister in law and nephew.

"After that, visiting my brother became my default vacation plan; summer, holiday, mid winter, spring break. That's how I got to know them all, and by extension, Barry."

"So," Steve said when Patricia paused, obviously thinking of fond memories. "If I follow correctly; the reason you're not listed as his guardian is because you think that publicly acknowledging a familial connection to Barry will get you fired?"

Patricia looked at him, a sad shadow in her eyes. "Initially…yes." She said. "Sky High is technically a private school with a board of trustees. They can hire and fire anyone at any time for any reason they deem worthy. At the time being connected to Barry, however obliquely, would have been a worthy reason to fire me. As the years passed, keeping my job became less of a reason not to say we're family. Some of the board members have changed, and the hype about what he did has died down to an awful footnote in recent history. I suppose I'm not afraid of losing my job anymore."

"So…" Steve said. "What is the reason then?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D" Patricia said. This earned a new round of surprised eyebrow lifts from the Strongholds.

"Phill, my husband, was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. He's retired now, but he still has active connections. He knows what they would do to have a Pyro like Warren under their purview; and they're not particular about age either." Patricia explained. "Because of Phil's connections, acknowledging him as family would bring him on their radar far sooner than any of us want; as well as every enemy they have."

The adults sat in silence; Patricia reminiscing over fond memories, and the Strongholds digesting the information that had just been given them.

A few minutes later, Steve broke the silence, unknowingly mirroring the question and tone that the injured teen in his living room had voiced earlier.

"Why us?" Steve asked.

Patricia smiled and kept herself from letting out a laugh. "Like I told Warren," she said, "Laura likely had her reasons. She always does."

Steve blinked a few times, confused at her apparent amusement.

"I suppose it most likely comes down to politics." Patricia said.

"Politics?" he asked dryly, clearly expecting more of an explanation.

"You two have enough of a presence in the super world that the alphabet soup agencies would have a hard time maneuvering you into a corner." Patricia offered. "That and I'm sure that she thought it a good idea for you to get to know one another if the group of remarkable teens in the next room insist on continuing on a path of friendship with him."

"True." Josie agreed thoughtfully.

"This was a high enough profile event that the Changs wouldn't have been able to keep him under the radar." Patricia further explained. "Not to mention the whole can of worms that particular connection could open."

"Changs?" Steve was confused by the new reference.

"They own the Paper Lantern. They have some connection to Laura, they've kept an eye on him before. But like I said, this incident was just a little too big."

"Well," Josie said after another short contemplative silence had settled on over the room. "While I am curious about her reasoning; I don't think it's really important right now."

Patricia smiled. "Indeed." She agreed. Steve frowned.

They spent the next half hour discussing the finer points of the care and keeping of a cranky pyro. Their discussion was brought to a close when Josie's watch beeped, signaling that it was time to check said pyro's temperature.

"I assume that everything he had with him when the accident happened was destroyed." Patricia asked as they got up from the table and tucked in their chairs.

"The nurse at the hospital handed me a bag as we left the room." Josie said. "I haven't looked at what was in it."

"I'll stop by the Changs' and grab his 72 hour kit and let them know he's ok." Patricia said, "If his house keys aren't in the bag the hospital gave you, I'm pretty sure he has a spare in the go bag. He'll be able to direct you to his house to get some necessities if he's going to be here for longer."

Steve involuntarily grimaced at the implication of length of time that his arch enemy's son could be staying in his home. Josie caught it though and sent him a look that promised a stern talking to when they were alone.

"Would you like to stay for pie?" Josie invited the Principle as they approached the closed sliding doors that led to the living room.

"No," Patricia graciously declined. "Thank you though. I need to get home. Like I said, I'll pick up some of his things and bring them by tomorrow."

"Alright then." Josie said.

They split at the door to the living room. Josie slid the doors open to find the group of teens engrossed in a quiet game of go fish. Steve showed Principle Powers to the door.

"Please call me if you have any questions." Patricia said as she stepped out the door.

"We will." Steve promised, thankful that there was someone that knew more about pyros; apparently modern medicine had brought to light just how complicated pyros could be.

"Have a happy holiday." Patricia wished the household before quickly moving to her car and leaving for her home.

Steve closed the door after wishing their visitor a similar farewell. He took a deep breath. There was a lot that he needed to think about; and he wasn't sure he liked that.


End file.
